


Playing with Fire and Water

by sleapea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bonfires, Fire, Fire Parallels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Summer, Summer Camp, Summer Love, Swimming, Underage Drinking, Water, Water Parallels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-01 11:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapea/pseuds/sleapea
Summary: ...he thought of Keith. Keith in the lake, dozens of water droplets reflecting the dying sunlight as they dripped down his skin; Keith, looking like he had been sprinkled in the fire of the setting sun. He stayed there for a few moments, listening to the crickets chirp around him and the wind rustle the leaves of the nearby trees. He thought of Keith again, how he had met his glance over the fire and quickly looked away. A wave of heat rushed from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears like an electric shock, and he let out a deep, steadying breath in response. He could do this. He whispered that mantra repeatedly to himself as he stumbled back down the hill.________________________________________Lance, Keith, Pidge, and Hunk are all camp counsellors working a summer job at a day camp managed by Allura. This work details the peak of that summer, when all emotions are at their highest. Alternating POV between Lance & Keith (labelled at the beginning of each chapter).





	Playing with Fire and Water

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where the idea of a summer camp au came from, but I decided to just go with it. I love klance, have a lot of feelings, and need to practice my writing... this is pretty much the result of that. I plan on making this fic four chapters... this one's pretty short, hopefully the others will be a little longer!  
> 

Lance would always associate the summer of his eighteenth year with fire.

The memories that often came first were of scraped knees, sunburns, and hot skin. Then, visions of how he’d spent days working in the sweltering heat, swimming circles in the lake and allowing freckles to blossom free and patchy all over his body. But his strongest memories of warmth that summer hadn’t been from the sun at all. Those memories came from a different kind of heat; one that had started deep inside his abdomen, clouding his mind and burning his cheeks as it spread. The kind that made his insides flutter and his ears turn that terrible, _terrible_ shade of red they always did when he was nervous. And it was all because of _him_ \- the boy who had walked straight into his life at the end of June, blazing a trail in his wake.

At first it was just a passing warmth, the kind that licked and tickled every time they were close. It thrilled him, feeling the subtle heat of each small moment, the growing possibility that maybe they were playing with fire. But by the season’s peak, the aching had started. His stomach rolled with it, revelled in it. It sent fire straight to his fingertips when the boy was near, whispering at Lance to touch him, to _feel_ him. The flames soon became all encompassing, until he could feel each part of his body burning, even when they weren’t together. The matches he had playfully lit and tossed early in the game had sparked a forest fire, sending waves of heat searing through his veins with each beat of his heart. For the rest of the summer, his blood had continued to scorch and scorch until there was nothing of him left but a pile of ember. Glowing dim and cool as autumn rolled in, the boy – Keith – had sifted through the ashes, finding Lance shivering and bare, but with a newfound fire in his eyes.

 

* * *

Hunk, Pidge, Lance, and Keith sat in a small circle around the camp’s overused fire pit, fire burning high and bright. They were all sun kissed and tired after a long day of managing countless groups of rowdy, gangly kids at the camp, and were finally savouring their first moments of peace as the sun set.

Keith lay sprawled with his head cupped in one hand, hair tied in a loose knot to avoid the dried sweat and dirt that had accumulated on his skin from a day’s worth of teaching middle schoolers to rock climb. Pidge had situated herself atop Hunk’s crossed legs, Hunk quietly humming as he picked small leaves and twigs from her hair. After countless hiking excursions, it had become their custom – Pidge, being as small as she was, often got tangled in low hanging branches and shrubs. Hunk, with his intense need to mother and his nimble fingers, was always eager to lend a hand. Lance was the only one in motion as he began tending to the fire, not keen on sitting still for too long. Although his legs burned and his shoulders ached from having spent the day leading swimming lessons in the lake, he couldn’t calm the rising nerves in his chest that itched his limbs and signalled for him to _move_. He busied himself by collecting firewood from the nearby woodpile, only selecting the driest of the bunch.

“Lance, just sit down already,” Pidge huffed after Lance added a third log to the fire “You’re going to burn my eyebrows off.” She had been restless in Hunk’s lap ever since Lance began gathering firewood, all of them knowing perfectly well that the fire Keith had prepared didn’t need tending. Lance stilled, arm extended with another log. His gaze shifted from Pidge’s scowl up to Hunk’s apologetic expression.

“She’s right, man. This thing’s gotta be at least a foot tall by now,” he said lightly, eyes gesturing toward the high flame as it sparked in response to the new wood. Of course, Lance knew he was right. The fire _definitely_ didn’t need more wood; it would probably stay lit for at least an hour at this rate. He scoffed, reluctantly withdrawing and turning around to set down the arm full of the firewood he’d just hauled over. As he turned, his eyes met with Keith’s, who instantly prickled and looked away. Light panic fluttered up from Lance’s stomach, and he could feel heat begin to pool in the tips of his ears.

“Uhm… anyone want a drink?” he said as he promptly set the firewood down, turning away from Keith as fast as he could. He dusted his hands off in a flurry of motion before continuing “I think Coran might have left some in the office’s mini fridge…” he trailed off in a hum, looking at Pidge with a smirk. Pidge whistled, light and high and clearly appeased.

“Thought you’d never ask,” she smiled big and wide, and for a moment, Lance forgot that he was anxious. Hunk nodded in agreement, giving Lance the go ahead. Once Pidge was up for something, it was useless for anyone else to object anyway. He didn’t bother looking to Keith for approval before quickly turning and sauntering up the hill to the camp’s main building.

On the particularly trying days, when the campers were feeling exceptionally indignant and rowdy from the heat, Allura was kind enough to let the four counsellor’s hangout alone at the site after the day was over. Allura was their manager, but she was also their friend. While she understood that it wasn’t exactly the most professional thing to let them do, she trusted them like family. They never took advantage of her kindness, and always used the time to wind down quietly together when they really needed to. However, also on days like this, Coran, the head counsellor, would silently slip some beer into the office’s mini fridge before locking up without a word. Occasionally, on his way out, he would meet a lingering counsellor’s gaze for a brief moment, give them a slight nod, and quickly turn out. They would never abuse Allura’s trust, but they sure as hell wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like that either. Which was precisely why Lance was currently stumbling up the overgrown slope leading to the camp’s main office, all gangly limbs and misplaced steps in the dark. He reached the top of the hill and blindly reached for the office door, clumsily punching the alarm’s code into the panel by the doorknob. It whirred once in approval, causing Lance to let out a short, relieved sigh as he stepped into the cool, air conditioned office. He got to work quickly, flicking on a desk lamp nearby before making his way over to the fridge. He emptied it’s contents – two 12 packs – in one motion, exchanging them for a pink post it with a clumsily drawn heart (they always left a note of thanks on the inside frame for Coran the next morning), before turning off the light and locking up. As the door locked shut behind him, Lance stilled. With one hand loosely cradling the 12 packs and the other lingering on the doorknob, he thought of Keith. Keith in the lake, dozens of water droplets reflecting the dying sunlight as they dripped down his skin; Keith, looking like he had been sprinkled in the fire of the setting sun. He stayed there for a few moments, listening to the crickets chirp around him and the wind rustle the leaves of the nearby trees. He thought of Keith again, how he had met his glance over the fire and quickly looked away. A wave of heat rushed from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears like an electric shock, and he let out a deep, steadying breath in response. _He could do this_. He whispered that mantra repeatedly to himself as he stumbled back down the hill.

“Pidge!” he shouted, breaking a can from the pack and tossing it over to her outstretched palms. “And give this one to Hunk,” he tossed another, catching her off guard. She fumbled with, but ultimately caught, the second can, dramatically sticking out her tongue once she had a firm grip. Although Hunk had finished grooming Pidge’s hair and was leaning back comfortably on his hands, Pidge was still perched in his lap. Lance gave a quick side glance to Keith as he tossed one his way as well “and for you, cowboy.” Keith scoffed as he caught the can with ease; grip tight to counter the slide of his fingerless gloves. “Might be a little easier to catch if you didn’t always wear those things,” Lance sat down as he cracked open his beer, eyes glued forward in an attempt not to afford Keith another side-glance.

Keith sat up, taking a long, drawn out sip before softly replying, “You know why I wear them.” Lance slouched at the dismissal, following suit and taking a long swig before replying.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Rock climber stuff,” he waved a hand dramatically in the air for emphasis, earning a small chuckle from Pidge.

“Honestly Keith, your hands can’t be that bad,” Hunk straightened, leaning forward and manually adjusting Pidge with his hands in the process. He looked like he was lifting a toddler, Pidge remaining unfazed and casually sipping throughout the process. He grabbed his drink from the grass where Pidge had left it waiting for him, crossing his arms in front of her to open it.

“They are, trust me,” Keith’s tone signalled to them all that he was done talking about it. Lance knew that Keith was sensitive about his hands. He constantly wore gloves, claiming that they not only helped him climb, but hid his callouses as well. Keith had worked outdoors his entire life, so it wasn’t hard to believe that his hands might be in rough shape. Lance wasn’t sure why the gloves bothered him so much… or, rather, he did, but refused to acknowledge that it was because he wanted to be able to fully see (and hold) Keith’s hands.

They continued an endless stream of chatter until the sun had fallen beneath the horizon and little stars began to dot the night sky. They laughed about the kids they had dealt with that day, Pidge detailing an instance where a camper had accidentally slid the entire length of a mud puddle, only to land right on their butt. Lance spent an entire 20 minutes dramatically retelling a story about a camper who blew water right out of his nose. They laughed and laughed, muscles calming and limbs unwinding as they became relaxed in each other’s company and slightly fuzzy from the alcohol.

After about an hour of discussion, Pidge stiffened. “Hunk!” she threw her hands up in the air, beer sloshing dangerously with the sudden, dramatic movement. Some of the liquid bounced out, landing right on Keith’s head. The utter look of shock on Keith’s face followed by the complete bewilderment of Pidge’s had Lance almost falling backwards with laughter. “We forgot to plan the special route for tomorrow!” she completely ignored Keith, causing Lance to laugh even harder.

“Pidge!” Hunk threw his arms up just as dramatically, although he had the good sense to set down his drink first. “We did, didn’t we!” They shared a moment of complete and utter silence, Lance trying his best to stifle his laughter as they looked at each other with wide eyes.

“To the office!” they said in unison, managing to draw a giggle from Keith. Lance finally lost it, toppling backwards off of the log he was sitting on. Lying in the grass he continued to laugh, full bodied and loud.

“We’ll be back in 15!” Pidge shouted over her shoulder as Hunk and her scurried toward the hill. Keith and Lance exchanged a look: Hunk and Pidge hadn’t completed a task together that quickly in their entire lives. When they were together, they had the tendency to get completely and utterly distracted. Before Keith or Lance could retort, the two were already out of view, lost in the darkness of the campsite. Their gazes lingered on each other for a few moments before they both broke out into a fit of laughter. Pidge and Hunk were so eccentrically in tune that it never failed to surprise them.

“Remember last week?” Lance managed to get out, still splayed in the grass “When they-“

“Don’t even remind me!” Keith groaned, feigning displeasure “I don’t even want to _think_ of how those poor kids looked after that disaster hike.” They both continued to laugh for a few moments, until their chests slowed and their voices drifted away with the wind. They sat in silence, Lance realizing that they had just been speaking normally for the first time in days. Lance lay still, unsure of what to say next. The moment had passed, and he could see Keith start to squirm out of the corner of his eye. _Come on, Lance, anything! Just say something! You’re not supposed to be bad at this._ As he opened his mouth to say something out of pure desperation, Keith stood up. Lance’s breath caught in his throat as Keith walked over to him, sitting down next to where Lance’s legs were draped over the log where he sat just moments ago. Keith leaned forward, back to Lance, resting his elbows on his knees and nervously thumbing the tab atop his beer can. “I-“ he started quietly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Lance quickly interjected, ears immediately flushing as Keith turned back to look at him, bewildered “I-I mean… not if you don’t want to.” He wished he could sink into the grass. Keith flushed at that, shifting his gaze back to his beer.

“I… I just wanted to apologize.” He finally said, after a few awkward heartbeats.

“Apologize for what?” Lance blinked in honest shock. That evening a few nights ago had been one of the best nights of his life. Disappointment bubbled in his stomach, turning his expression wide-eyed and anxious. “Did you not…” he began, voice cracking “I mean, I…”

“Lance, no, I –“ Keith swung around, panicked “I didn’t mean it like that. But I was… I guess… I saw you by accident? I wasn’t trying to snoop.” Keith sighed, running a hand through his bangs. Lance went rigid at the sight. The firelight bounced off of his dark hair, his pale skin, illuminating his expression as he bit his lip in concentration. Shadows played in the dips of his features and lingered in every curve of muscle, making him look like he was carved out of stone.

“Come here,” Lance wasn’t sure if it was him or the alcohol talking. All he knew was that his limbs were screaming and if Keith wasn’t within touching distance in a few moments, Lance might actually drag him down. Keith hesitated, brows furrowed and face wrinkled in apprehension “Keith,” at the sound of his name, Keith froze “I know you weren’t spying on me. And honestly, even if you were, I’m not even sure that I’d mind.” With nervous fingers, Keith finished his drink in one fluid motion before slowly laying down next to Lance, legs draped over the edge of the log in a similar fashion. They lay there in silence; Lance’s arms sprawled above his head, and Keith’s folded tightly across his chest. It took all of his composure to contain the slow burning of his fingertips, with Keith so close, yet still so far away from him. “I do have one regret though,” Keith’s head turned to face him, worry apparent on his face. Lance smiled softly at him.

“I never got to see your hands.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be real with you all - the only person who cares about this fic is my sister, so will likely be slow to update as I work on other projects.
> 
> Alternative Title(s):  
> A fic where Lance is me and has a total thing for hands apparently  
> A fic in which I live all of my "Keith with his hair up" dreams  
> A klance fic where Pidge and Hunk are unexpectedly cute????
> 
> Don't ask me why I chose beer bc idk. I'm Canadian alright.
> 
> && If anyone is curious, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://sleapea.tumblr.com/) (main) and [here](https://beautifulspacegays.tumblr.com/) (vld)


End file.
